I Know You're in There
by The Konfessionist
Summary: James survives sacrificing himself for Project Purity and his daughter, but not without consequence. As a mutation ravages his body and poisons his mind, his daughter Ana looks on, knowing that there's nothing more she can do but watch and comfort him as he slowly loses himself. Rated T for sadness and swearing.


**A/N: Hello, everybody! Another oneshot, heading your way c: I'm sorry that all I can write is sad stuff ;A; don't shoot me, please~**

**Any who, I had read somewhere that, apparently, in one of the first drafts of the script for Fallout 3 the writers had originally planned for James to become horribly mutated from the events of what he did trying to save Project Purity, but instead they went with him dying rather than becoming mutated. I wondered what the outcome would be if James were mutated, so here you go! **

**Hope you enjoy the fanfiction! Have some father-daughter angst.**

_**Summary: James survives sacrificing himself for Project Purity and his daughter, but not without consequence. As a mutation ravages his body and poisons his mind, his daughter Ana looks on, knowing that there's nothing more she can do but watch and comfort him as he slowly loses himself.**_

**As a side note, Ana's name isn't pronounced as 'Anna'. It's 'AWH-nuh'. Not really important to the story itself, just wanted to mention it briefly. xD**

**Happy reading, happy writing!**

**~TheKonfessionist**

* * *

"'Ya can't save him, Ana."

"Fuck you, DeLoria_._"

"Hey, don't get all pissy with me just 'cause I'm telling the truth and you don't _like _it."

"I didn't ask you to tell the truth!"

"Well 'ya need a fucking reality check 'cause 'ya keep _avoiding _what's happening to him when everyone can see it!"

"There's nothing wrong! He's going to be fine!"

"_He's turning into a God damn __**mutie,**__ Ana!_ People in town are starting t'get fed up with this shit—with his screamin' in the middle of the night. _Everyone _can hear it."

"Like I care what _they _think! They wouldn't understand what it's like, they don't have to watch someone that they love turning into something so—!... So _horrible! _And he's just so scared, I—… I—! Butch, he just needs _help!_"

"There's no way to help him. He's gonna change and there's nothing you can do 'bout it."

"Fuck you, DeLoria… just—… just _**fuck**__ you…_"

* * *

Ana had awoken to the sound of screaming—a deep, contorted baritone that sounded similar to (her, at least) a broken and distorted alarm that would play in the case of some sort of disaster, like when she had left the vault; and it sent ringlets and spindles of fear clattering up her spine to cling to the pit of her heart. It was a scream, more like a bellow, that she knew all too well and it was one that immediately sent her spiraling into panic through no fault of her own; she heard it much too often while she was in the metro tunnels or slinking about the bowels of the Mall, trying to a find quick (and safe) way around the 'territorial Mall locals' that frequently wielded mini-guns or hunting rifles.

Recognizing that she was, in fact, no danger of having her head knocked off her body with a sledgehammer or some other blunt instrument, and that the terrified screaming came from the room adjacent to hers in her small Megaton home, she immediately shot up in her bed as a voice—masculine and strong but inhuman and mutilated—began to string together a drippings of incoherent and frightened babbling. She recognized it immediately, yanking off her stained bed sheets that had collected around her waist when she had sat up, and pulled herself up from her bed. Hurriedly grabbing a pair of hide pants she had draped on top of the desk next to her bed, she tugged them on (as she frequently slept in her undergarments) and rushed out of her room to where the screaming had come from. Upon opening the guest room's door, it hit a heavy body that lay in the middle of the floor, trembling and twitching, curled up in a soiled blanket.

_He must have fallen out of bed again during his nightmares… he's changing so rapidly, he's starting to become too big for his bed._ Ana frowned sadly, trying to wriggle through what little space the door allowed her with the body lying in the way.

"Dad?..." Ana called to the body on the floor in a hushed whisper, looking down upon her mutated father. His body had become an open, blank canvas for radiation. A mutation had formed within him, creating plumes of twisted up DNA within his genetic code that was starting to change his body, his heart, his mind—and his _soul…_ His neck was pulled taut with engorged muscles and veins so his chin and jaw were no longer distinguished but blended in like lumps upon the muscle, discolored skin of sickly yellows and vague greens leeching into the pale skin slowly, like a sickness slowly consuming its host, where ridges of bulbous red veins struggled to push past the skin that hadn't reformed yet and struggled to keep looking human. The right side of his body was beginning to grow large muscle that was so out of proportion from his actual size that it caused him to totter when he walked, his human half struggling to cope with the added mass, and his grey hair that had once been adorned with streaks of white was beginning to thin so much it was almost completely gone from his scalp; only hanging from it in clusters of wisps. His right eye, yellowed and bulging from his skull so much that his eyelid couldn't close over it anymore, stared straight at the wall before him as he continued to ramble fearfully under his breath.

"_Burning—burning… skin—… burning, __**singeing—!**__ Changing… __**metamorphosis…**_" He muttered, curling up further within himself, arms circling further around his trembling and slowly mutating body.

The mutation seeded itself within him the day he sacrificed his life to protect Project Purity, the team that could resurrect it, and—most importantly—his young daughter from the sudden threat of the Enclave. Like the Eagle of America, they flew in without warning a trapped their talons within the hide of Project Purity to carry it away, but her father would have none of it—causing a massive radiation leak within the control room of the Jefferson Memorial rotunda, James had 'died', and he took two Enclave soldiers and Colonel Autumn with him. She had found out later, of course, that Autumn had survived the radiation leak; he told her that he had injected himself with a serum before the meeting with her father as a 'just in case' decision. The two had met before in the past, her father and the Colonel, and Ana didn't know when or under what circumstances, but however they knew each other Autumn knew James well enough to take the mentioned 'just in case' measure. The serum didn't save him from her rage or his head from her gun, and she made sure to let out another clip into his body when he had collapsed just to make sure the bastard was officially dead (even though his head was already gone and no one would be able to get back up from that).

When James died, Ana knew that she would never see her father again… and she was right. She was right in a way that she never would have guessed, because when she had found him after the incident at the Jefferson Memorial, the mutation had already begun to claim his body. She had found him scavenging outside a destroyed building past the outskirts of Rivet City, a bit of a ways from the bridge and the water, where he had come out to forage for food as she came out of the metro tunnels at the foot of the city. The mutation hadn't reached his mind yet, he had been able to recognize her then, but now that it continued to progress without any sign of stopping or even slowing down, his recognition of her was beginning to deteriorate to the point where he sometimes confused Ana for her mother—or he just didn't know who she was at all until he had some sort of moment of sudden clarity. Ana asked him so many questions that same night, as they sat around a campfire and roasted some leftovers in a pot, starting with the incident in the rotunda. James barely remembered the incident, while he couldn't recall at all how he managed to get away from the Enclave after setting off the leak. He claimed that all he could remember was running aimlessly until he came upon Rivet City, where he was shot at by the guards when he got too close, so he went into hiding in the nearby building where he went for cover from the gunfire. He had decided then that he would only come out when he needed to—like to look for food.

It hurt Ana so much to see her father this way—like a rendition of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde, she knew him solely as the man who raised her. He had been intelligent, strict, compassionate, loving, nurturing, understanding, level-headed, calculative, cautious, and precise; a mentor to her in time of need and other times he understood when it was time to let her grow and make her own mistakes without him judging her for it. Now that the mutation had begun to poison his mind, he could barely relay to her a full and complete thought; he would wake up in the middle of the night with night terrors about the incident (like he did tonight); he—like a small, abused child—was always so confused and disoriented; frustrated without understanding the reasons as to why he felt that way; throwing violent 'tantrums' that ended up with something being broken or someone getting hurt; and like his perception of the world was skewed and no longer mattered to him… like he was no longer connected to it and it didn't apply to him anymore, so the line of morality became blurred and he no longer held a significant understanding of what was right and what was wrong.

Ana couldn't blame him… but people in Megaton were becoming afraid; she knew that already, Butch didn't need to take the time to make it clear to her. Their fear began to breed into hate, and anger. But as she told Butch, they would never understand the hardships she was facing with James; how she was losing her father again, and how he was slowly (and unknowingly) losing sight of himself due to the sacrifice he made for her and for the sake of Project Purity's success.

She knew that if there was some part of what was truly _him_ left inside is mottled body, he wouldn't want her to think that all of this was her fault or furiously blame the Purity team… but that part was hidden away so deep inside him (maybe it wasn't even _there_ anymore) that he could never realize the turmoil she felt and he would never be able to utter to her the words of relief that she needed to hear.

They both had become such angry creatures.

"Da- Dad…" Ana cooed to him quietly as she knelt down beside him with her hands grasping outward to try and help him up from the floor. "Dad, please, let's get you back to bed…"

The moment her hand fell upon his bulky shoulder, he shrieked out and grabbed for her wrist, pulling her down to his level. The attack was so sudden; she wasn't able to prepare herself for the impact of the floor—hitting it so hard that her teeth clattered together within her mouth. As her eyes turned up to him, his meaty fist gripped her tiny neck and, using very little effort, constricted her breathing so it hitched within the bottom of her throat painfully as she tried to force it up.

"_Don't—__**know!...**_" He croaked tensely. "_You—! __**Don't know—! **__Hurt!... So much!... Wanna—!..._"

"D- Da—" She rasped out as she tried to suckle in breath, her small and frightened hands clinging to his large one encasing her throat, nails digging into the discolored flesh in an effort to get him to snap out of it. Tears surged up in her eyes as she stared back into his angry and frightened expression, his bulging eye trained hotly upon her slowly reddening face. "Da- _Daddy!..._"

The moment the name passed her lips, his hand immediately fell away from her throat. She hit the floor again, her forehead clashing with the metal as he threw himself back against the wall, huddling against it on his side as if he were sitting on a narrow ledge with his body trying to register a safe place to hold onto. It orchestrated a loud thud of bulky flesh against flimsy metal, his body trembling as he hid his face in his hands shamefully, refusing to look back at his daughter as she collected herself off the floor and gasped for breath—her hands flying up to her bruised neck. Ana wheezed and coughed, welcoming the air that flew rapidly, but painfully, down her open throat as her eyes slowly turned up to her father. Feeling her teary eyes upon him, he looked back to her; still trembling and breathing heavily, his blue eye blinking rapidly.

"I- I—… sorry—… you—?... I'm—_hurting… __**you…**_"

"It's oka- kay, daddy…" Ana replied hoarsely, coughing slightly and swallowed hard as she rubbed at the bruises soothingly. It wasn't the first time he had attacked her—it wasn't the most vicious time, either—and she knew that it would happen many, _many _more times until he completely progressed and was fully mutated… or until they could have him cured.

"_N- __**No—!**_ Not—… okay!..." James exclaimed in frustration, eyes rimmed with gleaming tears as he hid his face away in his hands again. "A- Ana—… hurting…"

"Shh… _shh…_" She cooed, forcing herself to her hands and knees to crawl towards him and he flinched back, whimpering to himself and the sound absolutely shattered her heart within the confines of her ribcage. "Daddy, pl- please… I'm okay, really. C- Come here."

"No!... _No…_" He murmured, looking up at her as he pressed himself further up against the wall as if trying to escape from her. "Don't!..."

"Daddy, you did no- nothing wro- wrong," Ana spoke as she lost her vision within the flood of her tears, daring to come closer to him to hug him tightly to her, rocking him gently but his tense form continued to tremble in fear against hers. "Please—_please,_ don't be upset… I'm right here, daddy… I've always been right here for you."

James pulled his daughter in close, sobbing and whimpering against her shoulder as she embraced him; her hand against the back of his head, petting him gently as if he were delicate, and she closed her eyes as she cried as well, continuing to rock him. She swallowed the ball that constricted the back of her throat as she silently cried against his thinning hair, pulling him in even closer to her as she dropped back on the floor at his side, his head upon her shoulder, arms wrapped around each other.

"So much—… _fear_… _**inside… **_Ana…"

"I know, daddy… I know…."

_I'm really scared, too…_

* * *

Ana trudged down the metal steps to the main room of her home, rubbing her sore and bruised eyes with weak hands as she came to sit at the fold out table they used as a makeshift 'dinner' table. Butch was already there with a cigarette entrapped between his lips and a whiskey bottle already opened in front of him. He ruffled tired fingers through his tousled hair, a rare occurrence for her to see it without any pomade, as she sat down with him.

"Did he go back to sleep?" He asked groggily, and she nodded in reply as he offered the bottle to her. She shook her head and instead reached forward to take the cigarette from his lips, putting it between her own and took a deep and thorough inhale as she tried to get her hands to stop shaking.

"He tried to strangle me again." She murmured after some time, slowly releasing the cigarette smoke from her mouth in plumes of 'O's.

"…You're actin' _way _too cool 'bout being close to killed, Ana." He shook his head as she offered the cigarette back to him and he shook his head, nodding for her to finish it. "He _will _kill you one day—"

"And he won't even remember who I am while he's doing it…" She finished, their eyes connecting across the table. "…Is that what you were gonna say?"

"…No." Butch replied as he leaned forward onto the table on his elbows, his jaw upon the butt of his palm as his heel rapped against the floor. "Was gunna say 'if you don't do somethin' about it'."

Ana went silent as she finished off the cigarette and extinguished the butt upon the table top, blowing the rest of the smoke out from her flared nostrils. She was too tired to be angry anymore—too drained to yell at him when there was truth in his words and she knew it deep down. The Serpent King watched her amongst her silence, knowing better to tack on something else and, like Ana, too tired to even think of what to say. Their silence was broken as someone pounded on their front door—on the other side, it sounded like it must have been three or four irritated people. One of them sounded like Simms trying to calm down whoever else was with him.

"Looks like the mob's here early…" He grumbled to himself, looking to her. "Wanna draw straws, loser deals with them?"

"No. I got this one." She replied quietly as she rose up from the table, making her way to the door. As her hand fell upon the doorknob, Butch called to her.

"'Ya can't save him, Ana."

Ana turned back to him, eyes falling upon his face and after a moment of quiet she nodded slowly, turning back to look at the door.

"…I know, Butch... I know."


End file.
